


Cherishing Spirit

by DRHPaints



Series: Imogen and Dave [2]
Category: Bill Hader - Fandom, Hot Rod (2007)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Brief Mention of Suicide, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, Meeting the Parents, Other, Pegging, Praise Kink, Smut, Sub!Dave, Sweet, Tattoos, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, brief mention of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Dave brings Imogen home to meet his mother and it...doesn’t go smoothly. Later, Imogen and Dave discuss his fantasies, Imogen gladly fulfilling one. The next morning, Imogen asks Dave if he wants to come with when she gets a new tattoo. She has a previous sexual relationship with the artist, however, and it makes for a torturous experience for the both of them.
Relationships: Dave McLean/Original Non-Binary Character
Series: Imogen and Dave [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996471
Kudos: 6





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made this a series for the sake of ease in navigating my works. I highly recommend reading the first installment ‘Adoring Apparition’ before this one. Whether or not there will be more will depend on requests or if I come up with other ideas for these lovebirds.

“It’ll be fine.” Dave reassured her, reaching over to give Imogen’s thigh a squeeze. “Trust me. She’ll love you.”

Imogen hitched a nervous smile on her face, smoothing over her dress. Black leggings and sleeves down to her wrists, the only tattoos visible were the ones on her hands and fingers, and Imogen went to the trouble of removing her piercings for the day. But despite his reassurances to her, if Dave was honest, he was just as anxious. His mother could be...difficult.

Even putting her ebony hair in pigtails, as Dave jogged around to open the door for Imogen, her unnatural look struck him as remarkably sweet. Still, pondering as they approached the house, Dave thought he preferred the unapologetic, bare armed badass in tight jeans with a rat’s nest atop her head who dragged him to hungry lips nightly and left him gasping.

“Hey mom.” Calling into the house, Dave unlaced his Converse and Imogen toed off her flats, trying to hide her fidgeting fingers behind her back.

A surprisingly short, stout woman, Dave’s mother came around the corner, grinning, until she took in Imogen’s appearance, a bit of tension gathering around her blue eyes and lips. “David!” Tipping up, she kissed Dave’s cheek and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “And you must be Imogen.”

“Yes, hello Mrs. McLean.” Extending a hand and hoping her smile was disarming, Imogen noticed Dave’s mother studying her inked fingers.

“Please, dear. Call me Martha.”

“Okay.” Imogen nodded. “Lovely to meet you, Martha.” As soon as she said it, Imogen could tell from Martha’s face that was the wrong answer. The invitation to address her by her first name was a test, and Imogen failed.

Narrowing her eyes, Martha gave a forced smile. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you two wait in the living room and I’ll call you when it’s done?”

“Do you need any help?”  _ Why did I just offer that? Imogen...you can’t cook. _

__ “Oh, no, dear…” Patting her shoulder, Martha shook her head. “Thank you, though.”

Dave led Imogen through the hall and they sat on the couch, where she reminded herself to breathe. It wasn’t often she dated someone long enough to meet their family. And whenever she did, it inevitably went...exactly like this. Parents, particularly mothers, didn’t take to Imogen. And with tender, earnest Dave being so close to his, Imogen wasn’t shocked by Martha’s reaction.

Joining his mother at the table, as they passed around a dish of potatoes, Maggie’s humming of a kid’s show theme song seemed incessantly loud in the blossoming silence.

“So mom…” Dave began, clearing his throat. “Imogen’s an artist…”

Ticking up an eyebrow, Martha paused with a brussel sprout speared on her fork halfway to her mouth. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Imogen bobbed her head shyly. “I...I paint.”

“Ah.” Chewing, Martha nodded. “I used to do a bit of that myself.”

Cutting a bite of pork chop, Imogen looked cautiously to Dave, who gave her thigh a reassuring pat under the table. “Oh, that’s neat. What medium did you work with?”

“Oils.” Martha stated simply before reaching for the salt. “I imagine you do the same?”

“Oh, well…” Shifting her eyes, Imogen shrugged. “My place is pretty small. I don’t have the ventilation for those, unfortunately. I stick to acrylics, mostly.”

“Hmm.” Martha’s gaze pierced her and Imogen felt as though she were an ant being burned beneath a magnifying glass. “Dave hasn’t told me much about your  _ place.  _ Other than that you live over south…” The note of judgment in her voice a symphony, Martha took a bite of potato. “And of course that he’s spending a lot of nights there.”

Cheeks warming, Imogen bit her lip. “Oh, um...yeah. It’s...I know it’s not the best neighborhood and all, but...but my building is safe. No break ins or anything and no one has tried to steal my bi—“

Dave turned to her in alarm. Purposefully picking her up in his truck, he subtly mentioned that his mom wouldn’t be  _ crazy _ about the idea of him riding around on a motorcycle with Imogen, as she already constantly hounded him about the hijinks he got up to with Rod and the guys.

“What’s that, dear?” Cutting her eyes between Imogen and Dave, Martha’s mouth settled into a flat line. Imogen gaped in silence, turning helplessly to Dave.

“Her...her bike, mom.” Figuring if things with Imogen were going to continue as well as they had so far, he could only hide it for so long, Dave took a deep breath. “Imogen drives a motorcycle.”

Eyebrows shooting up, Martha blinked. “Really? Isn’t that…” Martha pursed her lips, and set down her fork. “Quite dangerous?”

“I’m a very cautious driver.” Nodding perhaps too exuberantly, Imogen swallowed. “I’ve never been in an accident. If the weather’s bad, I take the bus or walk. Very careful.”

“Hmm.” Her eyes rounded on Dave, saying nothing, and Imogen suspected he would get an earful once Martha had him to herself. After a beat of silence that seemed interminable, Martha lifted her chin to Imogen again. “So what kind of work do you do?”

“I work overnights at a gas station.” Imogen grinned. “It gives me a lot of time to draw, which I like.”

Nodding slowly, Martha finished her porkchop. “Isn’t that difficult? Staying awake all night?”

“Not really.” Lifting a shoulder, Imogen shook her head. “You get used to it. Dave told me…” Glancing over at him, Imogen covered his fingers under the table. “That you’re a nurse? That must be a fascinating job.”

Martha sighed heavily. “Fascinating. And exhausting.”

“I can’t imagine.” Shaking her head, Imogen chuckled.

“No.” Taking her final bite of potato, Martha tipped her head to the side. “I don’t think you could.”

Swallowing hard, Imogen’s eyes fell to the tablecloth. “Mom…” Dave muttered softly, nose flaring. 

But Martha merely stood, lifting her plate. “Does anyone want seconds?” Voice falsely cheery, both Dave and Imogen declined. They both offered to help but Martha insisting on cleaning up herself.

“Mom, I’m...I’m gonna show Imogen the garage.” Dave pointed over his shoulder.

“Alright, have fun, David.” His mother called over her shoulder as she washed a pan. 

Scurrying after Dave, when the door to the garage closed behind them Imogen felt as if she could breathe for the first time in more than an hour. “Damn…” Sighing, she shook her head. “That...went about as badly as I expected.”

Frowning, Dave rubbed her arm. “Maybe...maybe she just needs time. She’ll warm up to you.” A wide smile spread over his face and Imogen was tempted to tell Dave that no amount of time would make her a harmless dream girl fit for Martha’s baby boy, but didn’t want to crush his hopes.

Dave showed Imogen around his work space, lisp worsening in his excitement as he described each tool, each machine, and even revealed an in progress commission of a steel and cherrywood wall hanging that, though half finished, was exquisite.

”Wait…” Lifting a box lid, Dave rummaged inside and returned with a small package wrapped in tissue paper. “Here.”

Imogen accepted it, threading the silky black ribbon through her fingers. “Dave...what’s this for?”

“You.” Bending forward, Dave gave her a quick peck. “No reason.”

Smiling, Imogen ripped it open to reveal a pair of leather gloves, knuckles detailed with almost clawlike metal curves. “ _ Whoa!”  _ Imogen ran her hands over the surface. “Dave, these are so fucking cool! Did you...did you make these?’

“Yup.” Bobbing his head humbly, Dave crossed his strong arms. “I hope they fit. I wanted them to be a surprise. I had to measure Kevin. I figured…” Holding out his palm, Dave lowered it to the ground. “He’s little, so…”

“Wait…” Pulling one on and flexing her fingers, they molded perfectly to Imogen’s ivory skin. “You didn’t just...buy a pair of gloves and add the metal pieces or whatever? You actually  _ made _ the damn gloves, too? I didn’t know you could do leatherwork! Awesome!” Imogen clapped them together, then brought them to her face to inhale the alluring scent.

“So...you like them?” Dave raised a timid eyebrow.

Tilting her head, Imogen stepped forward. “Dave, I love them. Thank you.” Hooking around the back of his neck, she drew Dave down to her lips. Mouths meeting, Dave’s hands went to her waist, constantly grease-smudged so it was fortunate Imogen always wore black, her leather clad fingers stroking his long hair.

Pressing her back against the bench, their tongues danced, Imogen lifting a leg around his waist as Dave’s meaty palm gripped under her thigh, humming against her curvaceous mouth.

“ _ Ahem _ .” Springing apart as though they burned one another, Dave and Imogen whipped around to see Martha standing in the doorway. Imogen was certain her face matched her shock of pink hair as she avoided Martha’s accusatory gaze. “I think you’ve shown Imogen plenty, David.” 

“Right, um…” Voice tremulous, Dave patted his thighs. “Imogen, she...she has to work tonight. So...I’m just going to drive her home.”

Martha nodded gravely. Lifting a trepidatious hand in farewell, Imogen attempted to smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. McLean.”

“It’s ‘Ms.’.” Martha corrected her as Imogen slumped to Dave’s truck, head down and rubbing her elbow with the opposite arm.

“Moge, I am so, so, sorry.” Dave shook his head as they rolled to a stop sign. “My mom is just...a lot.”

Shaking her head, Imogen stared out the window. “It’s okay. Like I said. I figured things would go that way.”

“What about you?” Dave asked cautiously as they drove.

“Hmm?” Turning, Imogen lifted an eyebrow. “What about me?”

Tapping the steering wheel, Dave cleared his throat. “Your...your family. Will I get to meet them sometime?”

Countenance darkening, Imogen shifted beside him. “No. I’m sorry, Dave. You...you’ll never meet them.”

“Do you want to tell me why not?” Dave asked softly as they waited at an intersection.

Imogen picked at her thumb, eyes on her lap. “Well, it’s...it’s not a very nice story…”

“Okay.” Nodding, Dave reached out to take her hand, keeping his focus on the road. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I’m here to listen if you do.”

“Alright, well…” Chewing her lip, Imogen began. “My parents, they got divorced when I was little. Like five, I think. But, um, my mom, she...she died a year or so after that. Killed herself.”

Dave almost slammed into the car in front of him when he whipped around to look at her in horror. “Oh Moge, that’s...fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Shrugging, Imogen glanced out the window. “I don’t really remember her so…” Imogen paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Well, anyway, then there’s my dad. A drunk. And he gets high all the time. Not a bad guy, I guess, mostly just useless. Would buy weed instead of food for us, things like that…” 

Dave’s hands were shaking on the steering wheel and heat gathered behind his eyes. Imogen tossed the awful memories out with such a casual air it made him ache. “And my brother. He’s a real piece of work. Also an alcoholic. And mean as hell. Last I heard he’s doing time for strangling his girlfriend.”

Gasping, Dave blinked at Imogen, but again, she merely raised a shoulder. “He didn’t kill her, thankfully. But yeah, so...I don’t talk to anyone in my family. Other than a couple of cousins, but they live far away so I doubt you’ll ever meet them.”

Quiet for a moment as they approached Imogen’s neighborhood, Dave’s throat was tight. “Jeez, Moge, I...I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I…” Dave covered her fingers with his own. “I can’t imagine how hard all that must’ve been for you.”

“Thanks.” Imogen muttered. After allowing a beat to pass, she glanced at the passing theater marquee. “Ooh  _ The Dark Knight _ comes out on Friday. We have to go!” Obviously she wanted to change the subject and Dave let her, the two of them discussing movies the rest of the ride, though Dave’s heart was heavy for Imogen’s struggles.

Parking in front of Imogen’s building, she turned to Dave. “Well, despite, you know...everything. I’m glad we got to see each other today.” Reaching out to cup his sharp jaw, Imogen grinned. “And thank you again for the gloves. They’re amazing.”

“You’re welcome.” Dave swooped in to link their lips, intending a brief goodbye kiss, but as Imogen let out a soft sigh, and he caught a whiff of her scent, Dave’s fingers trickled up her thigh and she started eagerly licking into his mouth.

“Hey, so, um…” Breaking away, Imogen took off his visor and tucked a dark strand behind his ear. “If it took you awhile to get back home...how mad do you think your mom is going to be?”

Giggling, Dave closed his eyes and shook his head. “Furious.” Touching his pink lips to Imogen’s, his mouth spread into a crooked, goofy grin. “But who cares?”

They rushed into her apartment, Imogen kicking the door shut behind her. “Ugh, finally I can take this shit off!” Peeling the dress overhead, she slunk the leggings to the floor along with her panties as Dave plopped down on her ancient couch, hastily undoing his jeans and working them down his thick thighs.

Straddling him, Imogen sank unceremoniously down onto Dave’s burgeoning erection. “Oh  _ fuck! Yes! _ ” Thumb racing over her clit, Dave began thrusting aggressively as Imogen bounced, moans mingling and bodies pulsing. 

“ _ Fuck! Fuck, Dave….Yes!”  _ Burying her face in his neck, Imogen sank her teeth in, delighting in Dave’s squeal, and maybe a bit too much in the idea that Martha might see how Imogen marked her boy as her own, though of course she didn’t want Dave to get in trouble. “ _ Fuck me!” _

After staring longingly at them all day, Dave’s free hand couldn't resist twisting into Imogen’s pigtail, dragging her to the side as his lips peppered over her collarbone, decorated with a quote from one of her favorite novels. “ _ Yes! Moge! You feel so good! Fuck!” _

Fingers creeping under his shirt, Imogen screamed into Dave’s skin, flickering around him and tearing at his flesh. “ _ Fuck! Dave I’m gonna cum! Yes! Fuck! _ ” Slowing, her thighs shook around his hips as Imogen tossed her head back, mouth agape and eyes rolling.

Powerful arms encircling her waist, Dave flipped her down onto the couch. In their time together he grew more confident in the bedroom with Imogen, though he still preferred to let her be in charge. And, Dave discovered that confidence translated to other areas of his life.

When his boss, Mr. Branson, who was constantly on Dave’s case about his hair looking unprofessional, even though there was nothing in the handbook about it being a requirement for employees, came at him about it again recently, instead of letting his eyes fall to the floor and muttering something about how he would falsely get around to cutting it, Dave squared his vast shoulders, and told him, “Mr. Branson, I like to wear my hair long. It doesn’t stop me from doing my job, so I don’t see what the problem is.” Thrown by a Dave that stood up for himself, Mr. Branson simply blinked, nodded, and went back to his tiny office, allowing Dave to continue repairing the skeeball machine.

And when Dave went to a movie with Rod and the guys, emerging from the theater with tears in his eyes as a result of one of the characters dying at the end, as per usual, the fellows began ragging on him. But instead of folding in on himself, shamefully hiding his tears as they called him a crybaby, Dave tossed up a palm and shrugged. “So? It’s good to cry. Nothing wrong with feeling stuff, guys.” Smiling, he shoved his hands in his pockets and moseyed back to his truck, Rod, Kevin, and Rico finding their taunts powerless.

And so as Dave frenetically humped Imogen into the wheezing couch, he was grateful for the strength she imparted as her body encased him like a Venus fly trap, shrieking and quaking. “ _ Fuck, Dave! YEs! Just like that! You fuck me so good!” _

“ _ Moge! Moge, I love fucking you! Yes! Fuck! I’m gonna cum! Yes! _ ” Both helplessly clinging to one another, Imogen tightened around him and Dave exploded with a drawn out, stuttering whimper, heels kicking at the arm of the couch as he realized in their hurry to join bodies he hadn’t even taken off his shoes. Mouths knitting lazily, Imogen combed back his silky tresses with her patterned fingers, smiling.

“Damn, I wish I didn’t have to go to work.”

Massaging her breast over the bra, Dave kissed her cheek. “Me too. But…” Extricating himself, Dave pulled up his torn jeans and made a face. “I have a feeling if I called my mom and told her I was staying the night after what happened today she’d have a meltdown.”

“Probably true.” Imogen chuckled. Pulling on her panties, she walked Dave to the door. “Well, thanks again. For the gloves. And for introducing me to your mom.”

“Why are you thanking me for that?” Dave made a face. “I mean...it was a nightmare.”

“Maybe.” Lifting a shoulder, Imogen nodded. “But the fact that you wanted me to meet her…” Imogen took Dave’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “That still means a lot to me. Thank you, beautiful.”

Beaming, Dave sought her lips for one last peck, caressing Imogen’s ass before they made their goodbyes and he headed home. As soon as he walked in the door, as he could’ve predicted, his mother harangued him about Imogen. Saying she was ‘dangerous,’ ‘trouble,’ ‘not good girlfriend material.’ Head back and sighing, Dave listened for as long as he could stand it before he threw up his hands in exasperation.

“You know what mom!” It wasn’t often Dave raised his voice to his mother, or anyone other than his little sister, for that matter, but vein in his forehead throbbing, he was done. “Imogen is great! She’s great! She’s smart, and funny, and creative, and she treats me well. Maybe she’s not what you had in mind.” Wiggling his fingers mockingly, Dave knew he was treading on thin ice, but he pushed on. “But she’s my girlfriend. And I’m in love with her.”

Face darkening, Martha crossed her arms. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Teeth gritted, the muscle in Dave’s jaw popped. He didn’t mean to say that, but he was so worked up, it slipped out. Dave hadn’t even told Imogen yet…

“Well…” Shaking her head, his mother’s lips pursed. “I can’t control what you do, David. You’re an adult. But…” Zeroing in her gaze, she raised an eyebrow. “Think carefully before you fall for a girl like that. If she’s that reckless with her life, imagine how she’s going to treat your heart.”

Scoffing, Dave pushed himself up and went to his room, slamming the door behind him. As he laid in bed, simmering, Dave thought about Imogen. 

Yeah, maybe his mom had a point that she was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. But so was Rod, and that never stopped him from being a solid, caring friend. Imogen always returned his texts and calls, kept their dates, showered him in compliments. But even though they’d been together for a few months now, something held Dave back from expressing his true feelings for her. As he stared at his ceiling, Dave gradually drifted, thoughts aswirl and insides roiling.

***

A couple of days later, Imogen as well as the guys were loitering around the Rec Center while Dave vacuumed. On his shifts when Mr. Branson wasn’t present it was easy to get away with friends hanging out, and Dave especially liked when Imogen showed.

After their initial disbelief, regardless of how much time the fellows spent around Imogen, she made them squirmy, and Dave found it endlessly hilarious. None of them knew how to talk to her, and Dave suspected Imogen was aware of this fact, and prodded them a little from time to time to see just how uncomfortable she could make them, especially once Dave divulged that initially they didn’t believe she existed.

When Imogen showed up to one of their stunt practices on her bike, for instance, and engaged Rod in a detailed discussion about road tricks, he grew flustered, finding it difficult to handle her unblinking gaze and penetrating questions. This was compounded by the fact that Imogen came prepared with her leather jacket and bike helmet, showing off with high speed turns on a dime and popping wheelies that made Dave’s heart stop. But Imogen simply shook out her hair when she emerged from the helmet, smile challenging and body in one piece.

Locking up the Rec Center, Dave tucked his visor into his shirt and hopped on the back of Imogen’s bike, weaving through traffic before they got back to her rundown apartment. Once inside she pulled him in for a kiss, smiling and patting his little belly before she unzipped her boots.

“You hungry?”

Untying his shoes, Dave nodded. “Yeah. You want to order from Jin’s? I have a coupon.”

“Sounds good.” Dave was grateful that Imogen didn’t mind making phone calls. He always got frustrated. Inevitably someone would ask him to repeat himself when his tongue tripped over a word they couldn’t comprehend, and Dave would try to be clear, try to slow down and enunciate, but his nerves would only make his lisp worse. If they ended up saying  _ ‘What? What? _ ’ a third or fourth time, Dave would hang up, figuring it was easier to go without delivery than face the embarrassment.

Food on the way, Imogen switched out her jeans for a pair of gym shorts, draping her colorful legs over him on the couch as they flipped the TV on. As Imogen looked for something to watch, Dave’s fingers trickled up her thigh, slowly making their way over the image of a skull and snake high up on the inside.

“Hey…” Giggling, Imogen nudged him with her foot. “You keep that up and we’ll be in a compromising position once the delivery guy gets here.”

“Sorry.” Dave chuckled, lowering his hand to her knees. 

Shifting, Imogen tossed an arm around his expansive shoulders and kissed Dave’s temple. “Aw, that’s okay.” Imogen combed her fingers through Dave’s long hair, studying him for a moment before she turned off the TV. “Hey, I’m curious about something.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Dave nuzzled into her hand.

“Well…” Tracing his fine features, Imogen began with Dave’s prominent dark eyebrows. “We do a lot of stuff I like to do. You know, sexually…” She booped Dave’s nose and he smiled. “But what about you? Is there anything you want to try…” Underlining his pink lips, Imogen bit her own. “Anything you’re into? Because, you know I want to make you feel good, right, gorgeous?” Polishing his sharp cheekbone, Imogen smiled warmly.

Dave placed his fingers over hers. “You do, Moge. All the time.” 

“Aw, you’re sweet, Dave.” Imogen ruffled his hair. “But isn’t there  _ anything _ you fantasize about?”

Holding up his large hands, Dave shook his head. “Nope. Nothing I can think of.”

“Really?” Lowering her voice, Imogen swiveled in close, lips grazing the spot below his ear. “Nothing? You don’t think of things…” Kissing his neck, Imogen’s breath was warm on Dave’s skin. “When you’re alone. Things you don’t tell anyone about…” Her fingers tiptoed across his thigh. “Things that get you so  _ hot _ , so  _ hard… _ ” Cupping the bundle of Dave’s crotch, Imogen nipped at his earlobe. “Things that make you cum…”

Dave shivered precisely at the same time Imogen’s phone rang. “Oh shit, be right back, baby.” Patting his muscular thigh, she hopped up and ran downstairs, leaving him heated and breathless before Imogen returned with the bag of food. She dished them up two plates and they sat on the couch before she approached the subject again. “So...did you think of anything? Any stuff you want to try, I mean?”

Pushing around his lo mein, Dave nodded. “Um...maybe...maybe a couple of things…”

“Okay.” Imogen chomped halfway through an egg roll. “Well, I’d love to hear it if you feel comfortable telling me. And…” Elbowing him, Imogen winked. “I’m down for most stuff, so, there’s a good chance I’ll do it if you do.”

Swallowing, Dave paused to chew a bite of orange chicken before he responded. “Well, um, so…” Dave set down his fork and placed his plate on the coffee table. “You know how...you know how sometimes...sometimes when you, you go down on me you...use your fingers?”

“Sure.” Imogen nodded casually, biting into a wonton.

“Well, I, um…” Face warming, Dave’s hands crawled over themselves in his lap and he had to look away from her. “I...I want more…” 

Imogen knit her brow. “What, you mean like three of them?”

“No…” Voice barely a whisper, Dave shook his head slightly. “Like, um…” Chewing his lower lip, Dave’s shoulders curled in and he peeked at Imogen timidly. “Like...I’ve seen...videos and stuff where...where women will sometimes, you know, um...they’ll...they’ll wear something so you could, so they can, um…” Clearing his throat, Dave figured he came this far and took a deep breath. “So you could be inside of me or whatever.” Letting out a shuddering exhale, his eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know if you’re into that but...if you...I could make one...if you wanted to...I’d like...yeah…” Letting his words fall away, Dave picked up his meal again and hyper-focused on his orange chicken in an attempt to distract himself.

Imogen slipped next to him, smiling and caressing Dave’s shoulder. “Oh Dave, I would  _ love  _ to do that.”

“R-really?” Dave paused, looking into her emerald eyes.

Nodding, Imogen planted a kiss to his shirt. “Definitely. And I do have one. A strap on, I mean. But a custom one would be sweet if you really wanted to try it.”

“Hells yeah.” Grinning, Dave nodded. “I’d just have to take your measurements.”

“Cool.” Imogen scratched under his chin before returning to her beef and broccoli. “So, anything else?”

“Um…” Hesitant, Dave blinked. “Well...it’s...it’s kind of weird.”

Shrugging, Imogen chewed. “That’s okay. I’m down for weird.”

“You promise…” Dave touched her knee and met Imogen’s eye, expression pleading. “You promise you won’t think I’m…messed up or...or…” Hardly able to squeak out his last words, Dave squeezed her leg. “Leave me?”

“Oh Dave, honey…” Setting down her food, Imogen shook her head. “No, of course not. If I’m not into it for whatever reason, I’ll just politely decline.” Caressing his cheek, Imogen tilted her head. “I’m not here to shame you, beautiful. Whatever you’re into, that’s okay.”

Dave smiled, grateful for how Imogen continually made him feel safe. “Okay, well, um...I’ve never tried it, but I, if you’d want to, I think I’d like it if you, I mean…” Inhaling, Dave thought if he said it quickly it might not be so bad. “If you would choke me. A little. Maybe.” Imogen’s eyes went wide and instantly Dave held up his hands and sat back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s too weird. I didn’t m—“

“No, Dave.” Chuckling, Imogen laid her fingers on his thigh. “It’s fine. I just got excited. That’s so damn hot.”

Arms lowering, Dave’s sculpted jaw hung open. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Imogen smiled. “Happy to. Anytime.”

Dave had difficulty grounding the grin repeatedly rising to his lips. “Okay then.” Sneaking in to kiss his cheek, Imogen leaned against him as they finished their food while watching an episode of  _ Unsolved Mysteries _ before Dave took the takeout containers to the trash. 

Imogen’s strong arms encircling him from behind, she undid Dave’s jeans, fingers creeping below the waistband of his boxers while the other hand came up to lower his shirt so she could kiss the back of his neck. “Mmm…” Imogen hummed appreciatively as she tickled his soft cock. “All this talk...I want to fuck you so badly, Dave.”

Dave leaned back, always pleasantly amazed that Imogen could handle his large frame when he rested his weight against her. “That sounds nice.” Large palm hooking around to knead her ass, Dave let his eyes fall closed as he thickened under Imogen’s ministrations and bent his knees.

“You want me inside you, baby? Hmm?” Imogen whispered in his ear, pumping Dave’s turgid cock. “You want me to fuck this tight ass?” Her other hand gave one of his tiny cheeks a squeeze and Dave let out a tiny chirp of assent.

“Yeah.” Nodding excitably, Dave flipped around in her grasp. “Yeah I do.” Mouths fusing, Imogen walked him backward to the bedroom, removing Dave’s shirt as she went, heedless of where it fell before guiding him back to the bed. Peeling off Dave’s jeans and boxers, Imogen gave his cock a couple of pumps before leaving him to go to the closet.

“Now…” Imogen began as she retrieved her decorative box of sex toys. “It’s probably a good idea to start with my smallest dildo.” Holding up a pink one, Imogen raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve been working with a bigger one on your own?”

“Oh, um, nope…” Dave shook his head with a shy smile. “Just...just my fingers. Sometimes…”

Chuckling, Imogen started shucking off her clothes. “Well, you do have big ass fingers, but still, I think we should start with this one if that works for you.”

“Sounds good.” Dave watched her step into the harness and tighten the straps about her hips before Imogen rifled in the box and pulled out a shiny oblong item. “What’s that?”

“Oh, this is a bullet vibrator.” Cramming her hand between herself and the harness, Imogen’s face momentarily bore a look of immense concentration. “There’s a little pouch in here for it. So when I’m inside you I can be stimulated, too.”

“Huh.” Dave’s mouth turned down appraisingly. “What a good idea.”

Smiling, Imogen grabbed the bottle of lube and crawled into bed after him. Squeezing some over her hand, she claimed Dave’s mouth, tongues lacing as he leaned forward, legs spread. Imogen’s fingers pet over his hole, slathering Dave as they kissed, Imogen bracing his broad back with her other arm.

“You ready for me to go in?” Her fingertips pressed insistently and Dave nodded at her shoulder. Pushing forward, Dave released a light sigh as Imogen met his pink lips once more, two fingers curling inside of him until he began to moan into her mouth.

Resting against Imogen’s shoulder while her other arm worked between his legs, Dave massaged her breast, rolling his hips to drive Imogen’s hand deeper inside of himself, the dildo against his thigh an enticing promise of things to come.

“Moge…” Dave parted from her, twisting in the ends of her ebony hair. “Moge...I want you inside of me.”

Closing her eyes, Imogen emitted a gasp of anticipatory desire, capturing Dave’s mouth and taking his lower lip between her teeth. “Of course, gorgeous.” Imogen laid him down, settling between Dave’s legs. “You want it like this? Me on top? Face to face?”

“Yeah.” Voice wavering with lust, Dave touched a trembling hand to the crow on her forearm. “Please.”

Nodding, Imogen kissed his knee as she smeared lube onto the dildo and onto Dave before positioning herself at his entrance. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Dave nodded and Imogen began carefully inching inside. Neck arching and limbs scrambling, Dave’s sculpted jaw dropped in silence.

“You okay, babe?” Imogen paused, massaging his muscular thigh.

Swallowing, Dave blinked. “Yeah, yeah, just…I need a minute.”

“Of course. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

Telling himself to breathe, Dave purposefully relaxed his body until he met Imogen’s tantalizing green eyes. “Okay. I’m good.”

Imogen pressed forward, and after a couple more breaks, was fully ensconced, slipping inside the harness to turn on the vibrator before she took Dave’s straining cock in hand. “Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yeah.” Dave breathed, and Imogen began swiveling her hips, jerking him in time with her thrusts. Parting his thighs a little further, initially it was difficult to get used to the sensation of being filled, of having to adjust to Imogen’s strokes entering him and not the other way around, and for a few minutes they clunked into one another off kilter. 

But eventually, feet planted on the mattress and pelvis rotating, Dave found their rhythm, sapphire eyes locked with Imogen as she folded forward, her free hand combing back his hair.

“Fuck, Dave...you are just so beautiful.” Panting, Imogen sped up, her wrist flashing over his cock vigorously.

A tumbling moan shot out of Dave’s mouth and he grabbed at Imogen’s back, trying to get her impossibly closer. “ _ Moge! Yes, fuck me! I love it! It feels so good! Don’t stop!” _

“Never…” Imogen tried to kiss his lips, but Dave was breathing hard and couldn’t keep up with her. “I’ll never stop.”

Balls tightening, Dave flickered around the dildo pulsing within him, body shaking as he frantically rocked into Imogen. “ _ Fuck! Yes! Moge, I’m gonna cum! I love you! Fuck! FUCK!” _ With every spurt of cum dashing over his firm chest, a fresh wailing whine tore from Dave’s throat as he shivered before deflating, spent and sweating.

Not wanting to overwhelm him, Imogen froze, instead cradling Dave’s forehead to hers and snaking her hand down to hastily drag the vibrator over her swollen clit. “ _ Oh Dave! Yes! Fuck! Yes!” _ As wound up as she was from the act, it was less than a minute before she was quivering above him and hurriedly flicked off the device before she got overstimulated. 

Imogen met Dave’s lips, tongue slipping into his weary mouth to play for a moment before she removed herself, standing to step out of the harness before rejoining Dave in bed.

Remaining silent as Imogen’s fingers trickled through his dark chest hair and he outlined her turtle tattoo, the more time passed, the more Dave wished he could turn it back, could unsay the words.  _ Obviously she doesn’t love you back. How could she? She’s Imogen. A goddess. And you’re… _

“Dave, I…” Imogen began. Pausing, she encouraged Dave to tuck under her arm and planted a kiss to the top of his head. “I heard what you said, and, um…” Imogen sharply inhaled above him and a bilious shame rose on the back of Dave’s tongue. “I...I’ve never said that to anyone before. Not in a relationship, I mean. So...it’s...it’s not that I don’t…” Hand squeezing him, Imogen cleared her throat. “It’s that I...I don’t know if I know how…”

“Oh.” Folding into her, Dave nodded against Imogen’s chest. “Okay…” He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. If anything. But all Dave experienced was that same sensation as when he tried to get out a word with too many ‘S’s’ in school and the other kids laughed.

Imogen turned off the light. Slowly, her body molded over his, arms and legs cocoon-like around his upper half. Dave was getting a bit too warm pushed between her breasts, but Imogen’s firm arms were trembling, and after he began massaging the small of her back he noticed her sniffle above him, so he was reluctant to ask her to let go.

“Fuck this…” Voice thick, if possible, Imogen brought him closer. “I’m so goddamned in love with you, Dave.”

“You are?” Dave murmured into her skin.

He felt Imogen’s head bob above him. Dave shimmied until he was able to reach her face, Imogen immediately hiding it in the pillow. “Hey…” Gently guiding her chin forward, Imogen’s eyes shone in the blue moonlight of the bedroom, scared, vulnerable. “It’s okay.” Dave met her quivering lips, tasted the salt that resided there before laying his head on the pillow and lacing back an errant black lock of her hair. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time, Moge.”

Blinking rivulets down her cheeks, Imogen nestled into Dave’s long body and, tears hot and wet on his shoulder, he held her in his powerful arms, calloused fingers soothing on her painted skin as he let Imogen sob until she grew cold and tired. Dave and Imogen wound together, drained, glad of the trust they had in one another as they floated off to sleep.


	2. 2

“Aw good timing, I _just_ got your nose right.”

Blinking, Dave looked up and saw Imogen hunched over him, pencil scratching as her eyes darted back and forth between a pad of paper on her lap and his face.

“What?” He muttered wearily, digging the heel of his hand into his eye socket. Imogen flipped the pad around and Dave took it with a gasp.

“Whoa! Look at that!” All of the pieces decorating Imogen’s walls were surrealist-style, almost dreamlike paintings. He had no idea she could do portraits. So to see his own face depicted, eyes closed, lips parted, hair splayed out behind him on the pillow, threw Dave. “That’s amazing. You’re really good!”

Taking the paper back, Imogen shrugged. “Aw, thanks.” Studying him, she added a line, then erased another. 

“Can I have that when you’re done?”

Imogen considered for a moment. “Sure. If you want.” 

“I do.” Dave was too self conscious to hang it anywhere other than his closet, but every morning when he pulled on a different shirt, he smiled at how Imogen captured him, peaceful and happy. “How are you today?” Dave kissed her cheek after Imogen set down the drawing.

“Okay.” Imogen scrunched her fingers through his chest hair. “How are you?” 

“Good.” Grinning, Dave kissed her forehead. Warmer than he expected, Dave tossed back the sheets and shifted to his side to face her. “I liked that last night. Thank you.”

Giving his ass a pinch, Imogen winked. “No, thank _you_ , beautiful.”

Dave giggled, cheeks pinking in the morning light as he ran his large fingers through his messy hair. “So you don’t think, um…” Picking at the sheets, Dave swallowed. “I know it’s stupid, but...you don’t think that...since I wanted that or...or liked it that makes me...like…” Biting his lip, Dave shrugged. “Gay or...girly or something…”

Sighing, Imogen tilted her head. “If it did, are either of those bad things, Dave?”

Not the response he was expecting, Dave pulled back his head and blinked. “No, no, I guess not, but…”

“Are you attracted to men at all?”

“No.” Answering perhaps too quickly, Imogen eyed him. “Well, I mean I’ve had dreams a few times and, um…” Gaze shifting, Dave’s fingers tapped nervously on his thigh. “I...I wake up really turned on when that happens.”

“Okay.” Imogen nodded. “You know that’s alright, Dave. With me. And in general. I don’t mind if you’re not straight. You know I’m not.”

“Yeah…” Folding his lip under Dave’s nose flared.

“But whether it’s okay with you inside, that’s something you’ll have to work on with yourself.” Brushing back his hair, Imogen gave him a knowing half-smile. “It might take a lot of time. And if you want to talk about it or need anything, just let me know.”

Dave took Imogen’s hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “Thanks, Moge. I...I love you.”

Quiet for a moment, Imogen bent forward to kiss him before leaning in, lips at his ear, voice the ghost of a whisper. “I love you, too, Dave.” Settling back, her eyes remained on the mattress. “I’m sorry that’s so hard for me to say…”

“It’s okay.” Dave massaged her hip. “I’m just happy you did.”

They laid in amiable silence for a moment before Imogen interlaced their fingers. “Dave? Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?”

“Of course. Anything, Moge.” Dave trickled over the phoenix on her ribs and smiled.

“Well, I, um…” Mouth hanging open, Imogen’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know how to explain it, really. But some days. Not all the time. I feel like...like maybe I would like it if I...if I really did have one. A...a dick, I mean.” Shifting her eyes, she swallowed hard. “Almost like...like I was supposed to have one. But...but just sometimes. I...I still like my pussy a lot and the things you do to it and everything.” Talking fast, Imogen bit the inside of her cheek.

“Oh. Okay then.” Dave bobbed his head. It wasn’t a shock, per se. Imogen tended to be masculine. The way she walked, talked, and particularly how she treated him.

In fact, after her first few times hanging out at the Rec Center, when Rod and the guys saw Imogen leave on her bike, but not before pulling Dave in for a passionate kiss, slapping his ass and calling him beautiful, they had more than a couple raised eyebrows.

“Uh...way to wear the pants, Dave.” Kevin laughed, crossing his arms.

But Dave liked Imogen in charge. He liked that she was the perfect mixture of strong and soft. He liked that he could somehow feel tiny in her muscular arms, that she could be his oasis after a difficult day and would cajole Dave into recognizing his worth.

So Dave shrugged. “You’re just jealous, man. And besides…” Dave made his dark eyebrows dance. “Neither of us wear the pants for long, anyway.” That shut them up long enough before the three berated him with a million questions about Dave and Imogen’s sex life, all of which he politely declined to answer, despite their incessant curiosity.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling that way, Moge.” Dave raised a shoulder and stuck out his lower lip. “And I like it. I mean, I like that you’re…” Hand gliding over her curves, Dave struggled to find the words. “Like the best of both worlds, I guess.”

Chuckling, Imogen rubbed his little belly. “Thanks, Dave.”

Dave tickled the pink flowers on her shaved pussy. “Glad you still like this though. I love it, too.” Imogen smiled, giving his carved forearm a squeeze. “Oh, did you finish that new tattoo design by the way?”

There weren’t many blank spaces on Imogen, but she had a spot on her leg for which she designated a weeping dragon. “Yeah, actually I just finished polishing it up at work the other night, but…” Sitting up, Imogen’s face fell. “I wanted to talk to you about that. See, I always used to go to this shop in town. Maybe you’ve heard of it, Tough Luck Tattoo?” Dave nodded and Imogen continued. “My regular artist, Connor, he and I, um, well…” Imogen took a deep breath. “Well, we had a deal. He would do my ink and I would...spend a few nights at his place. Get...a big discount.”

Mouth tight, she turned away from Dave. Dave wondered how she afforded her tattoos, as Imogen obviously lived on a tight budget, but he never expected something like this. “Moge, he doesn’t…” Joining her at the head of the bed, Dave lightly touched her shoulder. “He doesn’t make you do things you don’t want to do, does he?”

“Oh no, no, nothing like that.” Imogen quickly reassured him, patting Dave’s knee. “I was into it. Connor’s okay. For that. But we could never be anything serious. He’s...a lot. But of course now that you and I are together…” Sighing, Imogen tipped her head back and forth. “I’ve been saving up to afford his rates. I still would prefer to have him do it.” Imogen looked down at her body. “So the artwork is consistent and all. But if you want to come with, you totally can.”

“Oh.” Dave nodded. “Sure. I want to. Not because I don’t trust you, though.” Rubbing her arm, Dave smiled. “I just want to watch you get a tattoo. I’ve never seen one done before and I’m curious. Never even been in a tattoo shop.”

Sighing with relief, Imogen grinned. “Great, I’ll see when he has an opening and set up an appointment. Thank you.” Capturing Dave’s lips, she threaded back a dark tendril of his hair. “I’m so glad you’re not into macho jealous bullshit.”

“Me too.” Dave giggled. “That sounds exhausting.”

***

A couple of weeks later Imogen’s motorcycle rolled to a stop outside of Tough Luck, Dave in tow, and they walked through the tinkling doorway.

“Ims!” An exceptionally tall, lanky man with floppy orange hair and a red beard held out his thin arms to embrace Imogen. Keeping his eyes open, he looked Dave up and down behind her, and Dave got the sense he was being scanned as Connor released Imogen, not an inch of his visible skin spared the needle other than his face from what Dave could tell.

“And this must be the boyfriend.” Connor held out a large freckled hand with a smirk. “Connor.”

“Hello.” Dave smiled amiably and Connor’s crystalline blue eyes roamed over him, studying. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” A small, silly part of Dave wished Imogen mentioned Connor was taller than him before they came as the man extended himself, almost preening. “Alright Ims, whatcha got for me today?”

Imogen held out the drawing, and Connor nodded, thin lips pouted. “Badass. I dig it. Let me get a stencil drawn up. Hang on.”

Settling next to Imogen on one of the couches, Dave subtly tried to observe Connor as he worked. Face dotted with piercings, including a hefty septum and gauges through his ears, he studied the paper carefully, dexterous fingers dancing as he summoned the dragon to life before creating the purple outline for Imogen’s skin. 

The shop was sparse, clean, a couple of other artists and clients wandering through while they waited, all obviously deferring to Connor, who not only radiated the energy of the owner, but apparently a somewhat demanding one as he chided one of the employees for getting his lunch order wrong.

 _Maybe pick up your own food then?_ Dave thought, but said nothing as the other man kowtowed to Connor, apologizing profusely before scuttling back to his own corner of the studio.

“Alright, Ims, let’s get this baby on you.” Conner held the stencil aloft and the three of them made their way back to his room. Wearing leggings for the sake of ease, Imogen rolled one side up to her thigh and flopped down on the table. Connor shaved her leg before sanitizing it, then had Imogen stand so he could place the stencil for her approval before she climbed back on the table and he began.

“So…” Working on the black outline, Connor addressed Dave with his head down. “You got any ink, man?”

“Oh, um, nope.” Holding up his palms, Dave shook his head. “Not yet, at least.”

Connor chuckled a little. “Ah. Blank canvas. No wonder this one likes you…” Black gloved fingers inching up Imogen’s thigh, Dave’s eyes widened.

Craning her neck, Imogen gave Connor a hard look. “Watch those hands, Connor.”

“He sure as hell is.” Connor smirked, cerulean eyes falling on Dave before returning to the tattoo. For a while Connor remained silent, though Dave noticed his free thumb making tiny circles in Imogen’s calf. She glared back at Connor, tempted to smack him, but didn’t want to risk the needle dashing over her skin by mistake.

“Hmm, well at least this one’s on your leg, won’t get in the way much.” Dipping into the green, Connor narrowed his eyes at the design. “Not like when I did those pink flowers…” Dave stiffened, clenching his teeth. “Lucky she gives good head, am I right?” Smiling up at Dave lasciviously, Dave crossed his arms and looked away.

“Connor, you cut that shit out right now, or I—“

“Or what, Ims?” Rotating yellow over her skin, Connor redoubled his grip on Imogen’s flesh. “You gonna walk out of here with half a dragon on your leg? I don’t think so.”

It took almost four hours. Four hours in which Connor obviously got off on torturing them. When he wasn’t saying things like: _I assume you’ve seen the stars above her left asscheek, right? Had to pause halfway through doing those ones for a ‘break,’ didn’t we, Ims?_ Or _You still want those flowers over your nipples? They’ll hurt like hell. But I know you don’t mind that. What with the biting, and all…_ Connor delighted in the mere fact that he had an excuse to touch Imogen, to hold her down in Dave’s presence, when he could do nothing about it.

Dave didn’t consider himself a violent man. In fact, quite the opposite. If anything he was gentle to a fault. But as he sat there, buzzing of the coil eating away at his brain and metal music, which he would enjoy under normal circumstances, gouging into his spine, the vein in Dave’s forehead pulsed and he ground his rounded teeth until he swore he tasted powder.

Staring at Connor he couldn’t help but picture striding over and knocking the tattoo gun from his hand, ripping every damn piece of metal from his stupid self-satisfied face and sinking a fist into one of those sharp cheekbones. But of course, Dave sat quietly, expansive shoulders folding further inwards with every brazen comment, eyes counting the floor tiles and aching for the process to be over.

Examining Dave’s posture. Connor dipped into the white ink. “Oh I see…” With a knowing nod, he chuckled. “Finally found yourself a big sub like you always wanted. Congrats, Ims.” Connor patted her ass and she did strike out at him then, but he was faster, snatching her wrist, blue eyes unblinking. “I wouldn’t, Imogen. You’re almost finished.” Gaze sliding to her leg, Connor met her face, mouth a flat line. “So close.”

Imogen retracted her arm, nodding and turning back. Thankfully Connor completed the rest of his work in silence. When they went to the register, he made a big show of calculating his ‘friends and family’ discount, looking Imogen up and down lecherously.

“Just give me the damn total, Connor.” Imogen barked. “I can pay.” When he relented, she slapped the bills on the counter, taking Dave by the hand and leaving the shop, leg bandaged, without a thanks or a goodbye. 

Hopping on her bike, Imogen started the engine and Dave put his arms around her, the heat of her wrath radiant as she peeled away from the curb. Less than a block away, Imogen pulled over in front of a derelict diner.

“Oh, are you hungry?” Dave blinked up at the restaurant when Imogen encouraged him to get off the bike, but her arms enveloped him, pulling Dave’s head into the crook of her neck.

“I am so, so sorry.” Stroking his hair, Imogen kissed the corner of Dave’s crisp jaw. “That was awful. I didn’t mean to put you through that, baby. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Hands going to her waist, Dave spoke into Imogen’s skin. “It’s okay…”

“No.” Imogen shook her head. “It’s not. I...I guess I didn’t realize how awful he was. Is. I didn’t…” Pulling back, she caressed Dave’s cheek. “I didn’t know what a good man was until you came along.”

Smiling, Dave linked their lips for a moment before resting his forehead to hers. “Are you alright? After all that?”

“Yeah.” Imogen nodded, arms draped over his mountainous shoulders. “Are you? Fuck, Dave...he was such an asshole to you. You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right, gorgeous? He’s just a piece of shit who gets off on power.”

Bobbing his head, Dave held her close. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Imogen hung her hands on his t-shirt. “Dave, honey, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but…” Dave squeezed her waist. “I’m still sorry. That there was a time where you didn’t know how amazing you are and a guy like that got to hurt you so much. You didn’t deserve it.”

Face in Dave's neck, Imogen let out a deep breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. “Thank you, baby. I love you. You’re so good to me.”

“I love you, too, Moge.” Dave kissed the rim of her ear. “Let’s go back to your place, hmm? Just relax and try to forget about today.”

Nodding, Imogen got back on the bike and when they arrived at her apartment they ordered a pizza before she changed into pajamas, Dave shedding his torn jeans, lounging in his boxers and ridiculous t-shirt.

“Hey Moge,” Chewing a piece of crust, Dave wasn’t sure it was the right time to bring it up, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Can I ask...Connor...what he said about...about you ‘finding the big sub you always wanted’?”

Imogen waved a hand. “Oh don’t listen to that, he was just being a dick.”

“But…” Dave set his slice down on his plate. “What does that mean? ‘Big sub’?”

“Oh…” Sliding her eyes away, Imogen cleared her throat. “Um…’sub’ is short for submissive. You know…’dominant’...” Imogen gestured to herself. “‘Submissive’.” She bit her lip and delicately pointed a finger at Dave. “It’s not a bad thing. But Connor probably thinks it is because he’s an abusive asshole masquerading as a Dom.”

Dave nodded slowly. “Oh okay. So…” Picking a piece of pepperoni off, Dave paused with it halfway to his mouth. “When...when you saw me in the parking lot? That first day we met...could you, like...tell? Do I…” Dave lowered his hand and his voice. “Do I seem weak or something?”

“Oh Dave, honey…” Moving over to sit on his lap. Imogen combed back his hair. “There’s nothing weak about being submissive. It’s just one way to enjoy pleasure. In fact, we both have an equal amount of power as far as I’m concerned because we respect one another’s boundaries and love each other. Dominance and submission has nothing to do with that.”

“You’re sure?” Resting his head on her shoulder, Dave frowned. “People...I don’t know. I’ve been told I need to toughen up. Stuff like that before, so…”

Imogen waved a hand. “Nah, fuck that. I love that you’re sensitive, Dave. I love that you care, really, actually care, about things and the people in your life and you show it openly. That makes you so special and wonderful. Please don’t change that because of a few jerks who expect you to be something you’re not. You’re beautiful exactly like this.”

Beaming, Dave tilted his head up for a kiss. “Thanks, Moge.”

“And I approached you that day in the parking lot….” Imogen dipped into the curve of Dave’s neck, grinning. “Because you’re _sexy_ , Dave. No other reason.” Dave chuckled, shaking his head before going back to his pizza.

“Fuck…” Imogen glanced down at her bandaged leg as she finished a third slice. “This thing is on my body forever now and all it’s going to do is remind me of this shitty fucking day. Great.”

Dave touched Imogen’s ankle, lifting a shoulder. “Maybe we should try to make a better memory then.”

Smiling, Imogen nodded. “Great idea.” Taking Dave by the hand, they went to her bedroom, discarding their clothes and falling back together onto the mattress. Dave’s large hand flowed between her thighs as Imogen sought the solace of his mouth, internally sifting over her time with Dave and how he never failed to love her thoughtfully.

In Imogen’s experience, her partners wanted her, but they didn’t want the real her. They wanted the _idea_ of Imogen. They wanted a sexy biker chick, but on their own terms. Maybe one who would play the little bad girl, be delicate in black and never talk back. Or one who would be hardcore dominant, a flurry of whips and chains, often almost cartoonish in their expectations.

So to stumble upon Dave, who desired nothing more than for Imogen to be authentically herself, it was as if she could breathe for the first time in her tumultuous life. Dave listened. And not only that, offered well thought out feedback, remembering small details of her trials and checking in to see how Imogen was doing.

Dave shared. Unafraid to open himself and give whatever he had to offer to Imogen. Dave loved her more than she thought possible, and though Imogen couldn’t quite fathom it, didn’t think she deserved it, even, his love was precious to her, and she would spend her time trying to show him just how much trusting her with his heart meant.

Imogen slick with anticipation, she grasped Dave’s cock, parting from his mouth. “Fuck me, Dave.” Guiding him inside, Dave gasped as her body encased him, slithering an arm underneath to hold Imogen to his chest while the other hand fiddled her clit. 

“I love fucking you, Moge…” Dave whispered as the cadence of their bodies rose. “You feel so good. I want to do it forever.”

Pulsing against him, Imogen’s lips moved sloppily over Dave’s “You can. I want you to. Don’t stop, Dave. Please. _Fuck me_ …”

As Dave started pounding inside of her, bed squeaking in protest and Imogen’s screams ricocheting off the walls of her small apartment, she clung to his pallid skin, cinching around his cock and squinting her eyes. “ _Fuck, Dave! Yes! Fuck!”_

Crossing his arms behind Imogen’s back, Dave hooked over her shoulders and slammed into her vigorously. “ _Moge! Yes! I love you! Fuck! Fuck!_ ” High, desperate whimpers dripped from Dave’s pink lips as his movements grew uncoordinated above her. Driving herself rapidly onto his thick cock, Imogen constricted around him again with a shriek, nails scraping Dave’s wide back as her eyes fluttered.

“ _Fuck! Imogen, I’m gonna cum! Fuck! Yes!_ ” Leg shaking and left eye twitching, a keening whine dropped from Dave’s sturdy jaw as his pelvis jumped, draining hot cum into Imogen before he collapsed. 

“I love you, too, Dave…” Salty kisses making their way over his cheek, his neck as Dave sought oxygen, Imogen played with his long, damp hair as he gradually went soft inside of her.

“Damn, after that I wish I could smoke…” Imogen commented and Dave rolled his eyes. Two months’ previous, after many subtle comments and suggestions, Dave was finally able to convince Imogen to quit. She continued to suck on nicotine lozenges with regularity, but it made him feel better to know she wasn’t puffing away at half a pack or more a day. Still, after sex or a good meal, she would often remark on how she missed the habit.

Rolling off of her with a chuckle, Dave shuffled down and Imogen’s strong arms encapsulated him, Dave bringing their joined hands to his heart. As sleep crawled into bed beside them, Dave smiled, thankful he and Imogen found one another.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!
> 
> Note: As far as I’m concerned, Imogen is non-binary. However, as this takes place in 2007-8, that kind of language wasn’t widely used among most circles, so I’m going to continue with she/her pronouns.


End file.
